


Valentines Blues

by dragonndoggod



Series: pre-trapped by dogs [8]
Category: Sex Pistols | Love Pistols
Genre: Drabble, M/M, So what else is new?, valentines day, yonekuni is uncomfortable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-25
Updated: 2010-04-25
Packaged: 2018-07-25 17:13:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7541125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonndoggod/pseuds/dragonndoggod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's valentines day, leaving Yonekuni to his thoughts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Valentines Blues

He held his breath, debating on whether to place the item on his desk or not. His hands held the item he made with all his heart and he didn’t want to get caught placing it on the desk before him. He finally deciding when he heard voices in the hallway, heart skipping a beat when he thought of being caught red handed but he sighed with relief when the owners of the voices walked past the room and continued on their way, unaware of the nervous boy in the empty classroom.

Today was a day to be celebrated by the girls and even though he wasn’t a girl, he wanted to partake in the special day. And that was the reason he was standing in front of the desk with his home made chocolate, determined to leave it anonymously on his desk. Just a few weeks before, he watched his mom make chocolate for friends and finally gathered the courage to ask her to teach him. He could still hear the shock and awe in her voice when she agreed to teach him. He took his time practicing, each time getting a little better and when he finally got it right, he made his present, wrapping it carefully in a nondescript wrapping with the blond’s name on the tag. He knew the blond wouldn’t recognize his handwriting, though no matter how much he wished.

He paused to wipe his eyes, removing his glasses to wipe and attempt to stop the tears before setting the chocolate on the blond’s desk. he made his way back to his seat as his other classmates entered the room, chattering and filling the silence with their voices, going on about the upcoming day and all their plans. Voices got louder and more excited when the blond entered the room as girls got up from their desks and approached the blond. He kept his head down, trying not to draw any attention to himself as he pretended to be interest in the blood he pulled out. He didn’t have to look up to see that the throng of girls grew as others from different classes joined in to give the blond their gifts to him.

The deepening voice caressed his ears, even though the words where meant for the girls and not himself. The pain in his chest made him pause, knowing that his feelings where futile and desperately tried to keep them to himself. The chattering died down as others took notice of a gift left on the blond’s desk. Girls wondered out loud of who left it as did the blond. With his head still down, he didn’t see their faces when they ate it, but to hear the wonder in their voices filled him with a little pride, though he couldn’t voice that he was the one who left the gift on the blond’s desk.

It wasn’t until a year later, in his third year that he did the same thing that he did in his second year. Leaving a homemade gift of chocolate on the desk next to his. This year’s special day was just as similar as the previous year. Girls crowding around the blond giving him their gifts, offering things and promises that he knew the blond wouldn’t turn down.

The only thing different this year was the fact of instead of eating the chocolate he left on the desk for him, the blond tossed it to one of the girls, who passed it around before dumping the rest in the trash. His hard work, pouring his heart out to make that chocolate. Only to have it thrown away. He couldn’t voice his upset over it, the despair he felt or the hopelessness that took over.

For once, when lunch started, he didn’t go after the blond to eat with him, he didn’t have the heart after the gift he left was treated so horribly. Even though he knew the blond didn’t know it was from him, it still hurt to know that he would treat a gift so badly. Lunch would pass by with him still in the classroom, along with a few other students. He ate his lunch slowly, working on some school work to forget the pain he felt.

The door slid open quietly, someone he was unfamiliar with stood in front of his desk. A second year going by the pin on his lapel. He opened his mouth to say that if he was looking for the blond, he most likely in the cafeteria but the second year just shook his head. Blushing and stumbling over himself, he barely caught the words the second year was trying to say. He must have had a confused look on his face as the second year handed him a package, small and wrapped neatly. He apologized to the second year, telling him he couldn’t return his feelings since he knew how it felt to have unrequited love. It was then that the second year wave off his apology, telling him that he knew he couldn’t return his feelings and just wanted to let him know how he felt before taking off, meeting his friends in the hall as they congratulated him for doing that.

He looked down at the gift of chocolate on his desk, thinking and wishing that he had the courage to do what the second year did. He knew that if he where to ever tell the blond of his feelings, he would be flat out rejected and their friendship would be over. But at least he would be able to try to get over his feelings.

He was unaware he had someone watching him, a frown on his face and a look of displeasure on his face. It was just a fleeting look, but a look that Shirou would have given anything to see if he had seen it. He didn’t like the fact that someone gave him a gift and not know who. He shook his head and headed into the room, taking his seat next to the quiet boy. Curiosity ate at him, to know who gave him that. It wasn’t his custom to ask such questions and he turned his attention to the chocolate that the boy had on his desk.

He looked away, uncomfortable with his train of thought.


End file.
